


We’re Just Human

by n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Chronic Coughing Up Dirt Disorder, Cleves and Parr are cool sisters, Comedy, F/F, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Jane and Aragon are mom friends, Katherine Howard is acearo, Limbo, Living Together, Modern Life, Muteness, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Reincarnation, Selectively Mute Character, Sickfic, Trauma, but mainly angst, theyre a family okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20058442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss/pseuds/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss
Summary: How the queens learned to live together and became a family in the process.[NOW BEING CONTINUED]





	1. Birds of a Feather Must Flock Together

It’s raining.

The water pouring out of the sky feels dirty even before it hits the ground, gritty and grimy like everything else in this city. It sluices into the gutters and mixes with God only knows what other filth, lifting and floating discarded food wrappers, newspaper ads, and other bits of refuse. Even a thunderstorm can’t wash these streets clean.

The rain pounds over Jane’s black umbrella, splashing her with stray drops as she half walked-half jogged down the sidewalk. A street sign swims up out of the sheeting rain as she neared the corner and felt relief when she realized she had been going in the right direction.

Pulling along her two suitcases, the woman turns down the corner and enters a large building. She closes and shakes off her umbrella before continuing her trek. There, in the room she had been directed to go to, reading a book on a chair, was another girl, slightly younger and had her curly hair in an odd style on top of her head, which had been the first thing Jane noticed upon seeing her. When she finally notices Jane, she smiled in a friendly way.

“Here for the queen meet up?” She asked and Jane nodded.

That’s right. The two of them and the other four that would soon arrive had one thing in common: They were all the wives of the notorious Henry the VIII.

“I am.” Jane responded.

The two of them conversed idly before three others entered. Two of them had darker skin, while the other was pale with bright eyes. Jane immediately recognized the third one.

“Seymour! Long time no see!” The pale woman said loudly, throwing her hands up and nearly dropping the bag slung over her shoulder.

“You too, Boleyn,” Jane responded with less interest and more annoyance. She tried to stamp down that feeling, though. Starting a fight or argument wouldn’t be the best first impression to the other queens she didn’t know.

Once they all sat down and got situated, Jane noticed the first woman she had met counting heads multiple times. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, but she doesn’t say anything.

Eventually, another lady enters. She’s perky and smiling widely, introducing herself as their director, Sasha. She went to get introductions from everyone else when she paused and pursed her lips.

“Where is Howard?”

The five women looked around at each other, realizing they were, in fact, missing someone. Some girl named “Howard”, although Jane suspected that was her last name, since Howard wasn’t exactly a female name. Sasha rubbed her jaw and sighed.

“Sorry, ladies. Hang on a moment.”

“A moment” was actually twelve minutes before the front door of the building finally opened and then closed in the distance. A few seconds later, someone entered, dragging in a suitcase behind her. She was scrawny, thin, and awfully young. Much younger than the others. Had Henry really married this child?

“Sorry,” She mumbled, dipping her head low to avoid eye contact.

The poor thing seemed incredibly nervous, and it only made it worse that she was soaked from head to toe, as it appeared she didn’t have an umbrella. When the chance to change her clothes was given to her, she declined, despite the fact that she was shivering.

“Don’t want to waste anymore time,” She had muttered.

She sat down on one of the boxes in the room, playing with the end of her hair. Jane attempted to meet her gaze, to give her a gentle, reassuring smile, but she refused to lift her head.

“Now we can finally get on with introductions,” Sasha said with only mild passive aggression directed towards the youngest queen. She claps her hands, “Ladies?”

“Anne Boleyn! Wife number two!” The pale woman shouted, jumping up before they could even think to go in order. She smirks proudly. “I’m sure you all know me. I’m pretty much a legend!”

“Oh definitely,” One of the dark-skinned women rolled her eyes. “Catherine of Aragon. The original. And probably would have been the only one of it wasn’t for her.” She shot a look at Anne, who merely shrugged.

“Catherine Parr,” The first woman Jane had met spoke up, “I’m the sixth and final wife. The one who survived. Although I rather would have been remembered for my writing.”

“Anna of Cleves,” The other dark-skinned woman, who had come in with Aragon and Anne, said, “Number four. I’m the one who got away, you could say. Didn’t go through much. The marriage didn’t even last a year, but it was still the worst months of my life.” She ended her introduction with a light laugh, probably imagining how good Henry would have looked while being maimed by her dogs.

“Jane Seymour,” Jane finally introduced herself, “I gave Henry his son, Edward. Unfortunately, I didn’t last long after that.”

Aragon and Parr both gave her a sympathetic look before turning to the last queen. The girl didn’t react for a moment, as she was too busy fidgeting with her hair. When Aragon reached over and tapped her shoulder, she jumped and winced like she had been electrocuted.

“Oh,” She finally said, “I’m, uhh, I’m Katherine Howard. Number five.”

She bowed her head again, tugging loosely at the locks of hair twirled around her pointer finger. She says nothing more after that.

“I’m sorry, but how old are you?” Jane asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Katherine looked up, eyeing her up and down. After a moment, she answers softly:

“Seventeen.”

Worried looks were exchanged after getting the fifth queen’s age. Henry had married a mere child, and clearly something he had done has frightened her, given her mannerisms.

“Oi, aren’t we cousins?” Anne piped up.

“Oh, uhh…yeah, I think so.” Katherine nodded.

“That’s awesome! Come here, cuz!”

Katherine flinched violently when Anne suddenly wrapped her arms around her. Her spine bows and she holds perfectly still for a few seconds before hugging back. Tightly. It was like Anne was her lifeboat in a raging ocean.

The embrace lasted a little longer than it probably should have, mainly because Katherine wouldn’t let go and Anne didn’t have the heart to push away. Eventually, though, the two of them did pull back and the younger queen’s face was flushed red. She mutters something before sitting back down.

“Well, ladies,” Sasha jumped back in, “It’ll be good for you all to get used to each other, as you will be living together from here on out! That’s why you all have your bags; after rehearsals you’ll be taken to your new home.”

Curious looks were exchanged. They had all been noted of this ahead of time, but it was still a little daunting to hear out loud. Six women- all of which once had the same asshole husband- sharing one house. It was definitely going to be quite the experience.

“But that’s later! Let’s get right into practice, shall we?”

Through the vocal exercises, practice dances, and mini performances, everyone got a taste of what their new costars/roommates were all like. Their different voices blended into an amazing harmony that had them all shocked at how well it sounded. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad after all.

When lunch was called, idle chitchat was made. Parr whipped out her book almost instantly, digging her nose into the pages with wide, curious eyes as to where the story will take her. Aragon sat next to her, but didn’t bother her, instead bickering with Anne, who had been in a heated, but relatively tame argument with Cleves and Jane. After a few exchanges, the youngest of the group approached very slowly.

“Umm…” She said softly, but still managed to grab all of their attentions. “Sorry for interrupting, but I, uhh…I know this is kinda late but I just wanted to say hi to Anna.”

The German queen immediately smiled and eased an arm around Katherine’s shoulders, which she allowed and even leaned into. For once, the fear in her eyes dispersed for a moment.

“It’s good to see you again,” Cleves said to her in a gentle, warm voice.

“Did you two know each other?” Jane asked.

“She was my lady-in-waiting.” Cleves nodded, “So, yes.”

“You two seem pretty close.” Anne piped up, wiggling her eyebrows and smirking.

Katherine gets noticeably uncomfortable and shifts away from Cleves. Cleves shoots a glare at Anne before softening her gaze.

“We’re _friends_.” Katherine said with more force than she had intended. “I wouldn’t- It’s not that she’s a- Girl. But I- I don’t-“ Her hands quake a little as she tries to find the right wording.

“She doesn’t like romantic relationships.” Cleves saved her from the humiliation, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Aromantic,” Parr cuts in, not looking up from her book. “The word you’re looking for is ‘aromantic’.”

Katherine nodded.

“That.”

“That’s chill!” Anne grinned at her cousin, trying to ease her obvious anxiety.

Katherine offers a thin smile before shuffling back to her bags. She starts look for nothing in particular and the other queens watch her from a moment before moving out of earshot.

“Is she…okay?” Aragon asked bluntly.

Cleves sighed and rubbed her forehead with her thumb and pointer finger.

“Katherine…she went through a lot when she was alive. It’s really not my place to tell you about it. Just be gentle with her. She’s still shaken up about it.” The German queen glances back to where Katherine is still crouched on the ground.

The others nodded. A strange instinct to protect the youngest of the group welled up within Jane, and she swore she could see it in Aragon and Anne’s eyes, too.

Practice flew by relatively quickly and it wasn’t long until all of the queens were being driven to a neighborhood. When they stepped out of the cars, they are faced with a large house.

“This is where you will all be living,” Sasha informed, unlocking the front door, “Pick whichever room you will want. Everything is already furnished, but you might want to spend tomorrow’s day off getting any personal belongings you would want.”

She rattled off information before finally taking her leave, leaving the six queens to explore and claim beds.

The house was definitely big. They entered into a wide den with a hallway that led into the large kitchen. A nice dining room and cozy-looking living room could be seen, along with the staircase leading up to the next level. Cleves ended up claiming the bedroom on the ground floor.

Upstairs, the rest of the rooms stretched out in a circle around the staircase. Jane was given the master bedroom, while Aragon got the second largest room, which had a cathedral ceiling (“She’s a psycho Christian, so it makes sense!” -Anne, when the decision was made). Right next to Aragon’s room was the loft, which Anne immediately claimed before anyone could even get a chance to look around. Nobody complained- Parr had already decided to take the bedroom with bookshelves and Katherine went with the one next to the loft. They all suspected it was because she wanted to be next to her cousin, but she was too shy to admit it.

After all of that was taken care of and unpacking was finished, the sun was already halfway through its descent in the sky. The queens gathered in the living room, sitting in awkward silence for a moment. Parr was the one who took that time to just examine everyone.

Aragon held herself in a very queenly way, even that late into the evening. She sat up straight with her shoulders squared, sharp eyes gazing upon the other women like a hawk watching for prey. Her predecessor, on the other hand, did not care for such posture. Anne was reclining against one of the arms of the couch, a carefree and laid back look on her face. Just to her left, Jane looks relaxed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and, next to her, Cleves seems to be in a pretty good mood, as her muscles are loose and her facial features are lax. And then there was Katherine, who had opted for the floor, even though there was plenty of room on the multiple couches. She’s hugging her knees, looking even younger and smaller than she did before. Just by looking at her like this, Parr could already feel the urge to protect the girl.

“Well,” Jane finally said, taking leadership to get out of this tense quietness. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little better?”

  
The others raised an eyebrow at her. Anne even snorted lightly.

“We’ll go around and ask a question that everyone has to answer,” She continued. “It’s a little cheesy, I know, but we’re going to be living together, so might as well do some icebreakers.”

Aragon shrugged.

“Sure. I’ll start. What’s your favorite color?”

The answers went as so:

Aragon- Gold  
Anne- Green  
Jane- Silver  
Cleves- Red  
Katherine- Pink  
Parr- Blue

Simple enough so far.

“Boring!” Anne exclaimed. “Here’s an actual good question: Favorite modern world song as of right now!”

The answers were definitely deeper than the ones from favorite colors (even though Anne’s statement wasn’t exactly worded like a question).

Aragon- A Place With No Name  
Anne- Horns  
Jane- Dead Hearts  
Cleves- Shut Eye  
Katherine- Deathly Loneliness Attacks  
Parr- Everything Moves

“Favorite book?” Jane said next, which took a little thought, but eventually got answers.

Aragon- Their Eyes Were Watching God (which made Anne dramatically shout, “WHAAAT? Not the Bible?!?!”)  
Anne- A Clockwork Orange (although she had first said, “I don’t read”)  
Jane- Wonder  
Cleves- Night  
Katherine- The Merchant of Venice   
Parr- Animal Farm

“You like Shakespeare?” Parr suddenly asked before Cleves could even get to her question. She’s leaning over to look at Katherine, who looks a little sheepish and embarrassed.

“Oh…yeah. I love Shakespeare.” Katherine answered, a smile twitching on her lips. She seemed a little more relaxed when Parr beams at her.

“Finally! Nobody ever seems to like his plays! Have you read Othello yet?” When Katherine shakes her head, she continues, “Well, I haven’t, either, but I just bought it. Maybe we can read it together?”

Katherine’s smile actually grew brighter at that and it made all of the queen’s hearts melt.

“Yeah…yeah, I’d like that a lot, actually.”

“Wonderful!”

Cleves chuckled before asking her question: “Favorite animal?”

Aragon- Jaguars  
Anne- Tamarins  
Jane- Bears  
Cleves- Dogs  
Katherine- Hedgehogs or ferrets  
Parr- Owls

Katherine was next, and she seemed a little shy when she asks, “If you could have any pet, what would it be?” The question was charming, though, and the others seemed to enjoy answering.

Aragon- Cat  
Anne- Shark  
Jane- Cat as well  
Cleves- Many dogs  
Katherine- Tarantula  
Parr- Also tarantula

The final queens shot each other grins when they realized they had another thing in common: A love for spiders. Aragon and Anne both shuddered as they, too, had a similarity with each other: A hatred for spiders.

“Last one,” Parr said, deftly ignoring Aragon saying something about ‘never getting a spider’, “What’s the most interesting or weirdest thing you’ve learned since you got reincarnated?”

And the answers were definitely intriguing:

Aragon- “The massive change in government.”  
Anne- “Toddlers are allowed to run around in public without their shirts on and nobody cares, but when I do it it’s ‘inappropriate’ and I ‘need to leave.’“  
Jane- “C-sections.”  
Cleves- “Germany really went downhill.”  
Katherine- “The age of consent in England is only 16..”  
Parr- “Modern technology.”

Jane smiled once all of the answers stopped.

“That was nice,” She said. “This is going to be fun, ladies. It’s a pleasure to be here with you all.”

It truly was, but with every family came issues. And it wouldn’t be long until problems started rolling in, starting with a trip to the store.


	2. Alexa Play Despacito!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The queens go shopping and then bond over music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is entirely family bonding and fluff!!

“Anne, put that mop down! We _just_ got here and we are _not_ starting this already!” Aragon’s voice rattled loudly.  
Bringing along everyone to the store has proved to be a very bad idea already. Jane and Aragon hadn’t realized just how chaotic Anne and Cleves would get; it’s like those two have been friends for years. And it only made it worse when Parr joined in, turning the eyesore that was two women in their twenties acting like children, into three women in their twenties acting like children.

  
But could anyone really blame them? Not only did they not have any of this stuff in their past lives, it’s not like none of them ever got a good childhood so to say. Or, rather, a proper “modern childhood.” So, occasionally, their behavior could be forgiven for natural curiosity and interest.

  
But when they try to race with shopping carts the minute they get inside the store? That’s when the line has to be drawn.

  
It took enduring half an hour of non-stop arguing over shopping lists and food choices (_“Anne, for the last time, we are NOT only getting eggs. That’s horrible. We can’t live off of that.” ; “Katherine, do you REALLY think you can survive only on ice cubes, Ibuprofen, and chicken noodle soup?” “If I ration the Ibuprofen to only four a day…sure.” “ONLY FOUR-” ; “If I can’t get my eggs, then Aragon can’t get her weird Spanish food!” “They’re TORTILLAS!” ; “Can I please just get a cucumber?”_) to simply get there, and Aragon and Jane were almost wishing that they had just tied the others outside to a pole like they were dogs instead of torturing themselves with escort duty. And that was before they even stepped inside the store.

  
“Now remember, we grab the items on the list, we pay, and we _leave!_” Aragon barely reined in the impatience already slipping into her voice.

  
Anne, on the other hand, had other ideas.

  
“Do you know how long it’s been since we ever did anything like this? Never. Let us have a little fun!”

  
“But–”

  
“I agree with Anne.” Cleves nodded, “This place is huge. You probably won’t be able to watch us at all times no matter how hard you tried. Besides, there’s stuff we want to look at.”

  
“Is it really going to be two hours over at the tampon section, Anna?” Parr cut in curiously. “Surely there can’t be _that_ many choices in there.”

  
Cleves shot her a look while Anne exploded into laughter.

  
“Listen–” Jane attempted to take control of the conversation again, but her efforts were in vain when she was talked over by Anne.

  
“Well, we gotta try them on!”

  
“I don’t think it works like that.” Parr said and, at the same time, Aragon yelled, “_NO!_”

  
“How else are we supposed to know if they work?”

  
“Pray.” Cleves said and then snickered.

  
“Ladies,” Jane said loudly, “Please. Look around, but at least get the things on your list.”

  
They had split up the piece of paper to make things go by quicker, but Jane started to suspect it would actually make the trip even longer.

  
“Deal! Come on, Anna! You too, Parr!” Anne scurried off, tailed by the two women.

  
Aragon sighed and rubbed her forehead with her thumb and pointer finger while Jane laughed dryly.

  
“I think Howard has just become my favorite.” Aragon said.

  
“Agreed.” Jane chuckled. “Speaking of which…where is Howard?”

  
Aragon’s head snapped up.

  
“I thought she was with you.”

  
“Well, you’re also with me, so wouldn’t she be with you, as well?”

  
The two queens stared at each other with wide eyes for a tense moment.

  
“Oh god.”

  
—

  
“Do you need any help, miss?”

  
Katherine’s head snapped up at the masculine voice. She slowly turned away from the bakery display to face the young man standing behind her. He looked a little younger than Parr, probably twenty-one or twenty-two if Katherine had to take a guess. His smile is friendly, but it’s hard to miss the way his eyes glance up and down many times or just stare intently.

  
“Umm…no, sir.”

  
The man frowned a little when he was basically turned down. Instead of going back to doing his job, though, he prodded further.

  
“Oh. Well, doesn’t mean we can’t talk. My name is Tommy. What’s yours?”

  
That name was too close to…

  
Katherine shut her eyes tightly and turned her head forward again. When she doesn’t answer, the worker- Tommy- sets a hand on her shoulder, which was much more firm than a polite touch.

  
“Are you alright, miss?”

  
“Don’t touch me.” Katherine wheezed out, clawing his hand away. She backed up, eyes bulging in their sockets.

  
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  
“Leave me alone.” Katherine hissed before turning and scurrying away with her tail tucked between her legs.

  
—

  
“I bet you’re wondering why I gathered you snacks here today.” Cleves said, standing in the middle of the frozen food aisle.

  
“I’m not a snack!” Parr barked, “I’m the whole damn meal!”

  
“Then I’m a buffett.” Anne puffed out her chest.

  
“Buffet.” Parr corrects.

  
“You’re thinking of Jimmy Buffett.” Cleves nodded.

  
“Fight me.”

  
“What kind of buffet?” Cleves asked.

  
“Pasta bar.”

  
“With chicken?”

  
“Chicken Alfredo?”

  
“With chicken?”

  
Anne stares at Cleves with a confused expression before she looks up at the ceiling, processing what she had just heard.

  
“Anna, it’s chicken-“ She cut herself off as she blinked and tried to wrap her mind around the stupidity she was faced with. Cleves is struggling to contain her snickering.

  
“What about pizza?”

  
Anne narrowed her eyes at Parr, who is biting her lip to keep herself from laughing.

  
“No, it’s a pasta bar. Not a pizza bar.”

  
“Good, because buffet pizza sucks.” Parr said in approval.

  
“Sausage?” Cleves gave another suggestion.

  
“It is pasta?”

  
“Uhh…”

  
She stared at Cleves expectantly.

  
“No.”

  
“_THEN IT’S NOT GOING IN MY FUCKING PASTA BAR!_”

  
At her cry, multiple people turned to stare. It also gave away their position to Jane and Aragon, who were more focused on finding the youngest queen than scolding Anne for being so vulgar in public.

  
“Is Katherine not with you?” Jane asked hurriedly.

  
“She’s right here.” Anne nodded at Parr.

  
“The _OTHER_ Katherine!” Aragon said, exasperated. “Your _COUSIN!_ Where is she?”

  
The other three exchanged looks.

  
“I thought…she was…with you.” Anne said slowly.

  
“We lost the baby of the group.” Aragon said in horror, “We lost the child. The teenager.”

  
“How can you even call yourselves the mothers of the group?” Anne tried to joke to get rid of the tension, but Aragon was too worried to snap back at her.

  
“Oh god,” Jane brought one hand to her head, rubbing slowly.

  
“Oh no no no no,” Cleves muttered and the others turned to look at her, “Katherine should not be left alone in places like this or she’ll lose it.”

  
The other four immediately exchanged uneasy looks upon hearing that. They had all suspected the girl had some things going on, they all had a little bit of baggage, but it seemed much worse than a little bit of anxiety from what Cleves is saying.

  
“It’s crowded and unfamiliar and… The kid’s just got some issues and she doesn’t do well being completely alone, despite her instinct to flinch away from people. And being around strangers. Mainly men and-” Cleves sighed, not wanting to give everything away without her friend’s permission, even though concerned and curious eyes were already drilling into her from what she had blurted out. “Let’s just find her before it’s too late.”

  
“Well, that’s a little ominous, don’t you think?”

  
All of the women whirled around to see none other than the missing queen, who was holding a bag of flour and some bread. She tilted her head at them, smiling wryly, but none of them could miss the shaken up look gleaming in her eyes. They don’t prod.

  
“Where were you?!” Anne exclaimed, hurtling herself at her younger cousin and engulfing her in her arms. Katherine tenses a little, but forces herself to relax.

  
“Bathroom.” She lied, “Sorry. I probably should have told you guys.”

  
“It’s okay, love,” Jane smiled reassuringly at her. “I’m just glad you didn’t get lost.” _Or worse,_ but she said that part in her head.

  
“Now that that’s all cleared up,” Anne backed away, “Let’s get back to our adventure!”

  
“Don’t g-“ But Anne, Cleves, and Parr were already gone before Aragon could even finish her sentence. She sighed and then looked at Katherine, who was setting the flour and bread in the cart. “You’re our favorite.”

  
And Katherine genuinely smiled.

  
—

  
Half on hour passes with relative ease, which Jane and Aragon don’t know to be happy or worried about. It isn’t until the list is almost scratched out when the other three queens finally make an appearance. Anne makes a move to grapple Katherine by the arms, but Cleves gets to the girl first, scuffing her foot against the ground to alert her that she was there and then putting a hand on her back. The others take note on this, as Katherine doesn’t seem nearly as nervous as she would have been if Anne would have outright grabbed her.

  
“We’re sorry, ladies, but we need to borrow your Kitty.” Anne said in a weird, refined voice. “She shall be returned later.”

  
“Where are you going?” Aragon asked.

  
“The mall next door.” Parr answers, “Just text us when it’s time to leave!”

  
Jane and Aragon couldn’t stop them as they were scuttling away again, dragging Katherine with them.

  
Once the four of them are inside the huge building, the first thing Anne says is, “I want cookies. Let’s get cookies.”

  
“Ugh, Anne,” Groaned Cleves, as she, Parr, and Katherine follow her through the entrance. “I had two and a half bowls of cereal for lunch.”

  
“First of all, that was, like, an hour ago. Second, I said _I_ wanted cookies,” Anne argues, miffed. “You don’t have to have any. Wasn’t planning on sharing, anyway.”

  
Parr hears Katherine laugh slightly as Cleves playfully lunges at Anne. She couldn’t help but giggle, too.

  
Anne buys fresh-baked cookies and the other three wind up stealing some for themselves as they wander the mall. The emerald queen leads the way, with Cleves right by her side, but they both occasionally glance back at Katherine, who is basically being guarded by Parr. To anyone else it might have been annoying or smothering, but Katherine appreciated the gesture. She was actually able to focus on having fun and not glancing around for potential threats.

  
Almost all of them are perfectly fine with all these people, but it’s obvious Katherine is having a harder time venturing out of her comfort zone. That’s why Anne bristles herself up like a lioness and glowers at anyone who even looks at the teenager for just a little too long. It was strange, honestly; she never really knew Katherine that well in their past life, but she would hate herself if anything happened in this one. She wanted to protect her.

  
While looking at a display of chokers in some store, she was approached by the girl. She didn’t say anything as the girl shuffled up beside her, fiddling with one of the collars. Her eyes glance up a few times before darting back down.

  
“You, uhh, you wear one, too?” The teenager finally spoke, “I mean, obviously. You’re wearing one right now. I just- That’s your style? Sorry, that sounded rude.”

  
Anne chuckled and pat her on the shoulder.

  
“No worries! But yeah. I like to wear them.”

  
Another pause.

  
Just before it got awkward, Katherine spoke again. Her voice was very small and very soft.

  
“Is it…because…” She shut her mouth for a moment and her hands fluttered as she tried to figure out what to say, “…you have a scar?”

  
Anne felt her muscles tense for a moment. She looked down at Katherine, who has her head dipped low.

  
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, actually.” She said, then quietly added, “You too?”

  
Katherine nodded.

  
“Uh huh. I- God, I freaked out when I first saw it. It was so sensitive and tender and- I just didn’t want anyone seeing it, so I actually considered using a dog collar before I found out about chokers.” She said.

  
Anne laughed a little. It almost felt nice knowing she wasn’t being weird when she got self conscious about her scar from beheading.

  
“Well,” She spoke up with more confidence, “How about we buy new ones?” She plucked up green and pink chokers, “Plain black is kinda boring, don’t you think? We can even get the costume designer for the show to put a B and K on ours!”

  
Anne’s heart swelled when she saw the way Katherine lit up at the idea.

  
“Yeah! Let’s do that!”

  
“Wonderful!” Anne beamed and wrapped an arm around Katherine, who doesn’t flinch. “Look at us! Beheaded cousins!”

  
Usually, Katherine might have been thoroughly offended by a title like that, but she liked it a lot when it came from Anne. When she repeated it in her head, it sounded so nice and natural.

Something that made her feel like she belonged.

  
———

  
After two and a half hours (a fourth of which was spent being lost), the queens finally left the store to go back home. They might have been back sooner if it wasn’t for Parr and Katherine ogling some tank in a pet store, but Aragon and Jane still let out a sigh of relief when the car pulled out of the parking lot. Nothing was on fire and everyone seemed genuinely happy with the trip.

  
Once they were home and all the groceries were put away (which was a little disastrous since Anne insisted she took every bag in at once, which then prompted Jane to scream, _“BOLEYN THE EGGS!!!”_) dinner was started. That’s when Jane found a block of cheese in the utensil drawer, which somebody had apparently decided was a knife and could not for the life of her find the cream cheese she swore up and down they bought. Watching her spin around and search in utter confusion had Anne and Cleves on the floor in hysterics.

  
The Great Cream Cheese Mystery of 5:47 was quickly followed by:

  
“Excuse me, but what in the name of God is this?”

  
Anne looked up from her sprawled out position on the floor to see Aragon holding up some gun-like object. She nearly started laughing all over again.

  
“That’s a drench gun!” She said.

  
“Ah, I see. _Why?_”

  
Beside her, Cleves has erupted into snorts and snickers. Anne has to take a few deep breaths to get the words out properly.

  
“Why not?”

  
Aragon narrowed her eyes at the emerald queen before setting the drench gun back on the table, muttering something about ‘this being hers now’.

  
And then after that…

  
“ALEXA, PLAY DESPACITO!”

  
“WHY-“ Parr shouted miserably from the laundry room.

  
Poor Katherine, who had been standing way too close to the Alexa, tottered backwards with her hands over her ears when the notorious song started to blast from the speaker. Anne laughed loudly, throwing her arms into the air. Jane, who just walked back inside after getting something from the car, is very confused.

  
“This is an _INSULT_.” Aragon spat, glowering at Anne, who is doing a terrible job at singing along to the lyrics. “Are you _mocking_ me?”

  
“Not everything is about you!” Anne said before rushing to get back into the lyrics (although it didn’t matter because she was still poorly singing in Spanish).

  
“Alexa, stop playing Despacito!” Parr begged, but the music was too loud and her plea was unheard.

  
“Alexa said for you to perish,” Cleves commented from where she’s sitting on the bar counter, watching the chaos unravel.

  
“What is going on?” Jane said, still very confused. “I left for not even two minutes! Is Katherine okay? Why does Parr look like she’s about to cry? _WHY IS ANNE ON THE TABLE?_”

  
“I’m a star, bitch!” Anne warbled, using a ladle as a microphone.

  
“Language!” Aragon hissed.

  
“Sorry- I’m a star, m’lady!”

  
“I’ll take it.”

  
“My ears…!” Katherine moaned off to the side.

  
“You see this, ladies?” Anne yelled, “This is gonna be us! We’re gonna be big!”

  
She hopped off of the table, sliding a little because of her socks, but Cleves steadied her. She grabbed a spatula and tossed it to Aragon.

  
“Sing it, Aragon!”

  
“This is a spatula.”

  
“I know that,” Anne groaned, exasperated, “Just sing! Come on!” She started up again, this time with Cleves backing her up. The two of them whistle and cheer when Aragon eventually joins in.

  
“And now Kitty!!” Anne pointed to her cousin and thrusts the ladle into her face, which makes the girl freeze up.

  
“I don’t know Despacito,” Katherine sputtered out into the ladle like it was an actual microphone, causing the other queens (besides Parr, who is too busy dying) to howl in laughter. She blinks before bursting into a fit of giggles.

  
“Then we must dance!” Anne decided, taking her hands into Katherine’s and spinning around the kitchen with her while Aragon belted out the lyrics and Jane and Cleves (tried to) back her up.

  
“Alexa, please-“ Parr pleated, but it’s way too loud and her begging is too choked up to be heard by the speaker, which is probably laughing at her agony.

  
“YEAH!!” Anne hollered when the song finally ended, “That was _AWESOME! _We are _AWESOME!_” She’s grinning from ear-to-ear, and the other queens can’t help but do the same.

  
The little performances went on for a few more songs, which included: Anne sliding into Katherine and slamming them both into the fridge during Don’t Stop Me Now; Cleves slowly waving around a cucumber, Anne waving a whole candle, Katherine waving her hands, and Parr tearfully saying, “This song is so touching” during The Climb; Jane rushing to turn off Flesh; everyone stopping everything to do the iconic movements in Bye Bye Bye; Cleves and Anne laughing loudly at Never Gonna Give You Up while Katherine and Parr genuinely jam out; Aragon doing a passionate solo of I Will Survive while the other queens whistle and cheer; and everyone getting in the straightest line ever to do the Cupid Shuffle. It honestly had all of them in shock about how well they were getting along.

  
After the house calmed down a little more and Jane got back to making dinner, Parr approached Katherine with two copies of Othello in her hands. She smiled, which the teenager returned, especially when she saw the books.

  
“Wanna?” Parr offered.

  
“I’d love to.”

  
In the kitchen, Aragon made friendly chitchat with Jane.

  
“This life,” Aragon started, laughing a little, “I never realized how fun it could be. Honestly! I didn’t think I would get along with you guys. No offense.”

  
Jane chuckled from where she’s stirring a pot full of noodles.

  
“None taken. I thought the same thing.” She said, “But here we are! Coming down from the high of a jam session with four other ex-wives! It’s…wonderful.”

  
“It really is.”

  
There was a moment of nice silence before Aragon went to speak again, but the chance was snatched away when…

  
“Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly that thou, Iago, who hast had my purse as if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.” Parr announced loudly, getting confused looks from the other queens.

  
Well, almost all of them.

  
“‘Sblood, but you’ll not hear me! If ever I did dream of such a matter, abhor me.” Katherine returned.

  
“Thou toldst me thou didst hold him in thy hate.” Parr struck back.

  
“I’m sorry-“ Anne cut in, “But what the hell are you two doing?”

  
Katherine and Parr look up from the books they were reading from to stare at her strangely, like _SHE_ was the one bursting into Shakespeare in the middle of the living room.

  
“Performing.” Parr answered.

  
“Shakespeare is better acted out rather than read in your head.” Katherine added before jumping right into a long monologue.

  
“By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.” Parr replied after she was finished.

  
The other queens watched in amusement, realizing Parr and Katherine weren’t going to stop until they finished that act. Not that it bothered any of them, really; dinner and a show would be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is when things start to spiral >:)


	3. Where The Lion Sleeps Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so funny story. Remember when I said I was going to abandon this work? Well, I changed my mind

The sky was the color of the ocean- dark, wild, and swallowing everything in its wake. The only thing that could possibly rival its impenetrable wall of thick black-blue was the occasional cracks of blazing lightning that split the roiling clouds like a hot knife. The storm would cut in half at the flash of its searing glory, then sew itself back together like a monstrous, watery wound. The wind was so fierce that it seemed to be sent by some being (in which Aragon would helpfully say it was “God” or “angels playing bowling”), to punish London for some unruly sin. Water rushed down the streets like baby rivers, threatening to drag anything and anyone in its way down the asphalt with it. Raindrops battered windows and walls and doors, knocking so viciously like an unwanted guest.

An unwanted guest. That’s what this damn storm was. And Parr was at her wit’s end with this elemental stranger.

Her computer crashed for the third time and she finally slammed the lid close, letting out a miserable groan that was soon challenged by a deep rumble of thunder. She cringed, curling her shoulders in, and then sighed.

“Fuck this storm,” She growled.

“Language.” Jane said from the kitchen.

“Sorry,” The blue queen muttered.

Jane chuckles lovingly. “It’s alright, dear.” She peered over at the closed laptop. “Everything okay?”

“If keeps crashing.” Parr said miserably. “I just wanna write my book…”

Jane laughed again and then turned back to the pot she was stirring.

It’s been two months since she and the other five queens started living together, and it was honestly some of the best months of her entire life. Waking up each morning always greeted her with new mayhem from one of the other tenants and more things she can learn about them. Plus, her starving maternal side was sated by the young Katherine Howard, who she has taken under her wing. Seeing that girl smile always brightened her mood and made her heart flutter.

“It’s really coming down out there.”

Jane looked over her shoulder to see Aragon standing at the back door, sipping a steaming cup of tea. The golden queen swiveled her head around to face her, eyebrows raised.

“It’s what you would call ‘Noah’s Arc’.” Jane said knowingly. Except her ‘knowledgeable’ comment got a weird look and then a laugh from Aragon.

“Noah’s Arc was not the storm,” Aragon said. “But I appreciate the attempt to make a reference.” She pats Jane’s shoulder. “The news channel said it’s going to be like this all week.”

“You’re kidding!”

Cleves’ head pops up from the couch in the living room.

“We’re going to be stuck in here for a whole week?!” She flops back over. “I’m going to lose my mind!”

Jane and Aragon both laugh, however the little moment they were having is interrupted by a terrible crash of thunder that seems to rip the entire city in half. The sound rings in their ears, even causing Parr to snap her hands up to cover her own, and the sonic boom that follows rocks the house from side to side.

As the rumble fades and the lights overhead flicker, there’s suddenly a body in Jane’s arms- it’s Katherine, who must have gotten spooked by the sound. The girl was shaking slightly and clinging tightly to Jane’s shirt, so Jane quickly begins to stroke her hair soothingly. However, before she can say something to calm her, there’s a heavy thud from upstairs.

From Aragon’s room.

At first, Jane thinks it’s Anne, but then she sees the green queen’s head looking around from the other end of the couch. She swallowed thickly, feeling a slight simmer of fear boil inside of her. She turns the stove down.

“Maybe something fell?” Cleves suggested.

“That sounded too loud to be a book or something.” Parr said.

Aragon creeps over to the knife holder and pulls out the largest kitchen knife they had. Cleves and Anne quickly do the same, followed by Jane and Cathy. Katherine ended up wielding her phone with 999 at the ready. Then, as quietly as possible, the six of them snuck up the stairs and to Aragon’s bedroom. Inside, they definitely heard shuffling and a muttering voice.

Someone was in there.

Aragon looked at the others and put a finger to her lips. With her free hand, she grasped the doorknob, slowly pushed open the door, and peeked in at the lioness of a woman in her bedroom.

She was young. Twenty-three, maybe. Her curly hair was the most noticeable thing about her- it was auburn in color and very frizzy, framing her face in a way that made it look like a mane. Snarled locks kept flying this way and that as she looked around frantically, clearly very frightened. She didn’t seem to know where she was…

The clatter of a knife on the floor caught her attention and she whipped around. When she saw six women staring in at her through a slight crack in the door, she screamed.

And then they screamed.

The woman is immediately running to the window and trying to get it open. She’s yelling in Spanish, but none of them can understand her.

None except Aragon, that is.

But Aragon is frozen in shock.

“Maria?” She called out.

The woman froze. She craned her head around slowly. Her dark brown eyes widen when she saw the queen standing there.

“Catalina?” She whispered. Her accent is a smooth mix of Spanish and British.

There are tears filling Aragon’s eyes and she sniffled, nodding.

“It’s me. Maria, it’s Catalina.”

“Catalina…” The woman, Maria, muttered again. She’s starting to tremble even more. Her eyes glisten, too. “Catalina!”

Suddenly, Aragon is being lunged at. She wraps her arms around the leaping woman and twirls her around before she loses her balance and they both crumble to the ground in a sobbing heap.

“Catalina, Catalina…!” Maria’s words break off into watery, blubbering Spanish. Aragon shushes her and gently strokes her unruly hair.

“Shh, shh…” The queen murmured. “I’m here. I’m real, Maria. I’m with you.”

Maria sobbed out loud and buried her face against Aragon’s collarbone.

They end up lying there on the floor for half an hour, but they eventually do end up getting back up. Even then, Maria is still clinging to Aragon and a little too shell shocked to speak, so it’’s Aragon who has to explain that Maria had been her most loyal lady in waiting and best friend.

“Rude.” Anne had huffed in a good natured way. “I wasn’t your most loyal Lady?”

Aragon glares playfully at her. At her side, Maria manages a slight laugh.

“Hey, Anne.”

“Hey, Maria.” Anne grinned toothily. “Your hair has not changed.”

Maria laughed again, this time louder. It turns into a slight cough, however, and she clears her throat.

“Let’s get you some water.” Aragon said.

Maria looked around everywhere as they all walked back downstairs. She seemed in awe at the house, but also a little confused.

“This…isn’t the castle?” She managed to say. Her tongue felt like lead in her mouth. Aragon chuckles at the way she kept sticking it out and biting it.

“Everything feels a little weird when we first come back,” She told her former Lady. “But yes, this isn’t the castle. This is our house.” She gestures to the other queens.

“House?” Maria tilted her head. She finds that one-word sentences were much easier to manage. “How-” She grits her teeth at the way her tongue refused to cooperate. Aragon gives her a glass of water and she drinks some of it before trying again. “How long have you guys, umm, been here?”

“Two months?” Cleves spoke up. She looks at Jane for confirmation and got a nod in response.

“But we’ve all been alive for three months, I believe.” Jane said.

“Ah,” Maria nodded. She still didn’t seem to get it. “And I’m sorry, but who are all of you again? I mean I know Anne…and Cathy. Vaguely. My brain feels like it’s made of cotton.”

Aragon pats her shoulder before guiding her to sit down on the couch. She chuckled at the way her friend seemed to be amazed by how soft and comfortable it was.

“We’re Henry’s wives.” Aragon told her.

Maria’s eyes widened. “He married six times?”

“Yup,” Anne laughed. “I heard he almost married your daughter.”

Maria’s eyes went even wider. “_What?_”

“I’m Jane Seymour.” Jane quickly said, cutting off that topic. “The third wife. I had Henry’s son, Edward.”

“I’m Anna of Cleves.” Anna said. “Wife four.”

“And I’m Katherine Howard.” Katherine, who had been mainly silent this entire time, said. “Number five.”

“Number six.” Parr raised her hand. “Catherine Parr.”

Maria nodded slowly. She looks the other five over before training her eyes on Katherine.

“You.” She said. “You’re just a kid. But I’m not surprised Henry would wed one after…” She fell silent and clenched her fists. Anger and anguish flash in her dark eyes before fading away into plain longing. Aragon squeezes her shoulder. “Okay. So you’re all alive again. Do you know why?”

They all shook their heads.

“We’ve just been saying it’s ‘God’s will’.” Anne said. “Because it sounds funny.”

“I see.” Maria said. She still doesn’t seem to really understand, but, then again, none of them really did. “And what time period is this?”

“The 21st-century.” Parr answered. “From what I’ve learned, we’re all reincarnated with knowledge of the modern world. Which is very helpful.”

“Yeah…” Maria rubbed her hands anxiously against her thighs and looks around again. She seemed a little on edge, but none of them could blame her. Reincarnation was jarring. “Okay… I think I got it.”

“Do you?” Aragon looked at her.

“No. Not at all.”

————

Despite several explanations about reincarnation, Maria still seem to understand at all, so eventually the attempt to explain was dropped. She didn’t really mind and just went to getting used to everything.

By Wednesday, two days after she appeared, Maria was mainly in the loop with everything around the house (even if the toaster still freaks her out every time toast pops up out of it). That’s when Aragon made the proposition to take her out. The rain had momentarily stopped falling and she wanted her dear friend to get a chance to stretch her legs.

“Maria, would you like to accompany me down to the city?”

Maria looks up from the book she’s reading (she had found in it Parr’s bookshelf). Her eyebrows furrow a little.

“The city?” She echoes, blinking slowly in the dull light coming through the surrounding windows.

“Yes,” Aragon nodded. “I think that we’ve been holed up in this stuffy house for long enough. I want you to stretch your legs. Plus, wouldn’t you like to see what’s become of London?”

Maria nods.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

And so, the two of them set off to an amazing little bakery that Aragon knew about with an umbrella (which Maria had no idea how to work properly), boots, and jackets (Maria was borrowing some of Aragon’s).

During the walk, Maria’s eyes were lit up as she gazed all around at the towering city encircling her. It was so big and new and amazing! And yet, she had a sinking feeling of dread pooling in her stomach.

She’s…not sure what’s wrong. Feeling… ‘hypervigilant,’ (was that a thing?) maybe was the word she was looking for? Paranoid? But that was ridiculous, what reason did she have to be so jumpy? There was one thing she did know, though: There was a lot of people around…

Maria swallowed, forcing her breath out as her eyes flickered around at the people who were as daring as they were to venture into the storm’s grace period. She wasn’t sure what it was that was putting her on edge—it had been a long time since she had felt like this, she couldn’t place it—and that fact alone made her even more nervous.

_Get it together._ She thought to herself, fists clenching and unclenching as she and her queen go deeper into the city and, subsequently, become surrounded by more people going about their day. _There’s nothing wrong. Catalina’s here. Catalina won’t let anything happen to you…_

Suddenly, Aragon abruptly stops. It’s only because of Maria’s eternal awareness of her that she barely manages to avoid running into her, blinking at her in confusion as she looks at a building to her side with a frown.

Glancing to her right, Maria notices that it had shelves of baked goods such as cakes and bread behind the glass front, which leads her to believe this was the bakery that Aragon had been looking for.

“Hmm, well that is a problem…”

Maria’s heart rate increases—_problem? What problem? What was wrong_—until she speaks again, still looking at the bakery. “Quite a load of people in there. I didn’t expect it to be a busy time…” She looks at her companion. “Are you alright to go in?”

Maria nodded, but Aragon could read the discomfort all over her face.

“It’s okay,” Aragon said. “I’ll just only go in. Best not to subject you to that type of torment, at least not yet.“ She chuckles, smiling fondly at Maria in a way that makes her feel slightly better. “I’ll just pop in and see how long it’ll take. Will you be fine on your own for a minute, love?”

“Sounds good.” Maria said.

Smiling pleasantly, though a crease in her brow remains, Aragon bows her head before going into the small shop, a sharp _ding_ from a bell above the door announcing her presence.

Maria presses herself against the side of the building, feeling moderately more steady as she huddles against the foundation. She watches the people that pass by, her eyes flickering rapidly from one to another, though she can’t figure out why. She wasn’t really even seeing them, catching the outline of clothes and colors, but their faces seemed to blur before her eyes and make them completely out of focus. A condition that seems to worsen with every passing second.

Sweat drips from her brow and her breathing becomes shallow, as if something has her heart in a vice grip and just continues to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze… She’s probably about to pass out, or at least fall over, when lightning suddenly cracks in the distance and a deafening roar of thunder rattles the entire city.

Maria leaps up and scampered inside the bakery like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. She beelines for Aragon immediately and latches onto her arm, not caring how childish it may have looked. The comforting feeling of her queen patting her head calms her slightly.

“I’ve got you,” Aragon murmured softly. “It’s okay. It can’t hurt you.”

“I know.” Maria grits. “It just- it scared me. That’s all.”

Aragon nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively.

“Why don’t you stay inside with me until we get the order? Then we can go home.”

_Home_.

“That sounds nice.”

—

The panic quelled completely once the duo arrived back at the queen’s house. Maria finally let go of Aragon to put their purchases in the kitchen while Aragon went to the bathroom. She was conversing with Jane about her thoughts on the city when Aragon walked back over, an accusing look in her eyes.

“Anne, when did you break the mirror?”

Anne blinked innocently from where she was grabbing a drink.

“What?”

“There’s a crack in the mirror.”

“There is?”

Aragon was about to snap at Anne for trying to act like she didn’t know, but she’s become pretty good at knowing when someone was lying to her and she realizes that Anne really was innocent at that moment. She furrowed her eyebrows and scratched the top of her head.

“Did anyone go in there?”

“I did, but I swear I didn’t break the mirror.” Cleves said. She wasn’t lying, either…

Aragon, with Maria scuttling by her side, ends up showing Jane and Parr the broken mirror. Though, it could barely be considered broken. The crack in the glass was tiny, probably only the size of a finger, and sat at the very center of the mirror. Weirdly enough, though, there seemed to be something _red_ oozing out of the chipped area.

“What is that?” Parr said aloud. She reached out and wiped up the oozing fluid and, at her touch, cobwebs of cracks suddenly spreads throughout the mirror. She jerks backwards. “Uh oh.”

“Cathy!!” Jane yelped.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” Parr cried.

“What’s going on?” Katherine pops in, and it’s that moment that the mirror shatters.

Screams overlap one another as the glass blows outwards with a terrible crash. Silver daggers rebound against the wall and Parr scampers into the hallway with the others before she’s cut open by the things. Her back is turned, so she doesn’t get to witness a girl falling out onto the bathroom floor, but she’s just as shocked as the ones who did get to watch it when she twists around and sees the stranger with long scars down her inner arms laying there on the tile.

When her eyes open, they’re the color of moonlight reflecting on ice.


	4. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Getting beheaded and watching someone get beheaded were two different traumas entirely, with the latter being just as bad as the former, which is probably why mirror girl is still blubbering fearfully in the bathroom even after half an hour of attempted persuasion to get her to calm down.

It’s the same thing every time: One of the queens tries to talk to her, she just says “no” over and over again, they try to open the door, she throws a chunk of glass at them. She was being completely uncooperative, not that anyone could blame her after she seemingly was reborn from an exploding mirror, but it still put the entire house on-edge. Katherine was getting overwhelmed by all the screaming; Parr was barely able to think straight over the commotion; Cleves had a terrible headache from it all; Maria was frightened, which in turn made Aragon uneasy and worried for her; Jane was grasping at nothing to try and help the poor girl; and Anne was pacing very anxiously. Seeing her bite her nails down to the quicks was a little strange for her to do, to say the least. Very out-of-character for her.

“I can’t take it anymore!” Anne suddenly exploded. “Jane, you gotta let me talk to her.”

“She’s going to freak out further.” Jane said.

“No offense, but you’re one of the reasons I got taken away from her. I think it’s a fair amount of panic that we will both induce, but at least she knows I’ll never hurt her.” Anne argued. “Please.” Tears are welling up in her eyes before she can even think to stop them. “I need to see her.”

“Let her, Jane.” Aragon said. She’s holding Maria close to her. “She deserves to see her again.”

Jane looked at the golden queen, then the emerald queen, and then nodded. She slowly cracked open the door and winced when another piece of glass smashes against it, but Anne doesn’t seem to be phased. She quickly slips inside and turns to her former lady in waiting, best friend, and younger sister figure.

Maggie, who looks to be around twenty, is huddled in the corner, making herself as small as possible. Her brown hair is in complete disarray and sparkling with tiny shards of glass that sprinkle her head like razor sharp snowflakes. Her moon blue eyes are so wide and glassy that Anne swore she could see her reflection in them. Blood is oozing from cuts scattered along her body from when the mirror broke and it’s causing her obvious discomfort, but she seems too wrapped up in her own terror to try and stem the bleeding. When Anne steps inside, that terror only gets worse and she spirals into a full blown panic attack.

“No!!” Maggie shrieked before Anne can even get a word out. “Get away! Get away from me!!”

Hurt flashes in Anne’s eyes. “Maggie…it’s me. It’s Annie.”

“I know who you are, _spirit_.” Maggie spat out, her voice loaded with venom. Despite the poison she coats her words with, her physical demeanor is nowhere near as powerful as her verbal one and she just curls further into her corner, hugging her knees tightly. There’s a shard of glass clutched tightly in her hand. “I’ve seen you before. You were there when I died and you’ve been taunting me since.”

Suddenly, it all made sense.

“Oh, Maggie…” Anne muttered. She wondered if her dear friend was seeing her headless and bloody right now. “Maggie, I’m real.”

“That’s what you always say.” Maggie hissed, but her voice becomes hollow halfway through the sentence. She loses her aggressive touch and falls back into her terrified state of mind. “And I- I believed you at first, but then you disappeared each time I tried to touch you. You kept leaving me, just like before.”

Anne feels her heart break at those words. She steps closer, which makes Maggie tense up.

“Maggie, you gotta believe me.” She tried again. “I’m real. I’m here with you again.”

Maggie sobbed and shook her head. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

“What do you want?” She whispered. “Is this revenge?” She struggles to breathe for a moment, choking on her own panic and causing Anne to dart down to her side. She stares fearfully at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you. I-I tried. I tried to talk to Henry, really! P-please believe me…”

“I do.” Anne said. “Of course I believe you. But it wasn’t your fault I died. It was my own.”

Maggie shook her head frantically. “No- no-! I could have done something. I-I could have—” She breaks off into sobs and buries her face in her knees.

Anne couldn’t bear to watch her best friend- her little sister break down like this. Without thinking, she extends a hand and sets it on Maggie’s shoulder.

The girl’s cries seize and she goes very still.

Slowly, Maggie raises her head. The tears on her cheeks glisten in the fluorescent lights. She stares in shock at the queen’s hand, then up at the queen herself.

“I’m here, Maggie.” Anne told her.

Maggie can’t reply, so Anne carefully takes her hand, unbuckles her choker, and guides it to her scar. Maggie’s fingers tremble against her tender neck.

“See?” Anne whispered, cupping Maggie’s cheek with her other hand. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

Maggie’s expression remains the same for several long seconds before her mouth contorts into a grimace and she whimpers. Another wave of tears stream down her cheeks. She throws herself into Anne’s arms and cries harder.

“Annie, Annie…!” She babbled tearfully. “A-Annie, y-you’re…!”

“Shh, shh,” Anne murmured to her former Lady. She began to gently rock Maggie, rubbing up and down her back. “You’re okay… Shhh, you’re okay… I’m right here.”

“I-I m-missed you so much, Annie…” Maggie choked out through gasps and wheezes.

“I missed you, too, my love,” Anne whispered to her sweetly. She pressed a kiss to the top of her head- it felt so good to do that again. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anymore. Never again.”

Maggie can’t even form words this time and just continues to cry steadily into Anne’s chest, who holds her protectively and whispers soothing things in her ears until she eventually calms down.

Okay, well, Maggie didn’t really “calm down” she just stopped crying and having a panic attack. However, she was still very scared and anxious, especially when she stepped out of the bathroom, clinging tightly to Anne’s arms to stay upright, and saw six other women standing there. She only recognizes three of them, so the other three introduce themselves. She doesn’t really process it much, far too dazed and disoriented to do just about anything except grasp onto her queen, so Anne takes her to her bedroom to rest and clean her cuts from the glass.

That night, as the rain starts to pick up again, Anne is awoken to squirming and whimpering beside her. She looks over to see Maggie writhing in her sleep, whining softly at some unseen horror. At this, Anne immediately leaps into action and gently presses on her dear friend’s shoulders to wake her up with jarring her too much.

“Maggie,” Anne said. “Come on, Mags, it’s okay. Wake up. You’re okay.”

Maggie whimpered again, shaking her head against the pillow before her eyes suddenly snap open. She springs upwards, breathing heavily and looking around wildly before she feels the hands on her shoulders.

“A-Annie?” She choked out.

“Yeah, it’s me, Mags.” Anne said softly. “It’s me. I’m right here.”

“Y-you were…you were dying…” Maggie whispered.

Anne’s heart broke at the lasting trauma that lingers on her former Lady. She carefully wrapped Maggie up in her arms and laid back down with her, cuddling her close to her chest.

“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” Anne said. One hand began to stroke the girl’s hand. “I’m alive now. I’m here with you.”

Maggie sniffled and nodded.

“I-I know, I just…” She trailed off. “D-do we have to talk about this?”

“No, no of course not.” Anne said quickly. “You must be so tired. You are basically a newborn in this life.”

That got the tiniest of giggles out of Maggie. The sound makes Anne’s heart flutter.

“Goodnight, Mags.”

“Night, Annie…”

—

Maggie would go on to have two more nightmares that night. Both times Anne does not wake up, still fast asleep, and Maggie doesn’t bother her.

———

By morning, Maggie was absolutely exhausted. Her eyes felt dry when her heavy eyelids peeled open. She squinted in the morning light bleeding in through the window facing the bed (why would Anne place her bed there?! she’s probably blinded every morning!!) and rolled over with a sluggish moan. Her hands do a little grabby motion for Anne, wanting to cuddle for just a little longer, but she feels nothing but empty sheets.

Maggie bolts upwards.

Anne was gone.

Instantly, panic sets in and Maggie’s breathing starts to get faster. She tumbles out of the bed and down the short flight of stairs leading to the loft, looking frantically for her queen. Images of Anne’s decapitated head start to flash in her mind and she whimpers. Tears start to well up.

Anne was dead. She lost her again. She’s all alone. Anne was dead.

“Maggie?”

Maggie spun around and saw Anne standing in a doorway with her hair slightly dripping. She immediately ran to the queen and practically jumped into her arms, which causes Anne to laugh.

“Good morning to you, too.” Anne chuckled. “Sorry, I was taking a shower. I should have told you.”

“I-it’s okay.” Maggie stammered. “I-I was just…” She fidgets anxiously until Anne takes her hand and lets her feel her scar. Knowing that her best friend’s neck was still completely intact, she calmed slightly. “You, umm…you didn’t need help bathing?”

Anne blinked before laughing out loud. Maggie blinks, too. Why was she laughing? What was so funny? She tilts her head like a confused little puppy.

“Oh no, Maggie, no.” Anne wheezed out. “Honey, I can bathe on my own now.”

“Are you sure?” Maggie asked innocently and Anne titters again. She’s led into the bathroom, which is still very warm from how hot the shower had been. She watches as Anne pulls back the floral curtain to reveal a tub and a spigot near the ceiling.

“Parr said we’re all reincarnated with knowledge of the modern world.” Anne said while reaching for a faucet.

“I did,” Maggie said sheepishly. “I just don’t understand all of it.”

Anne nodded and then turned the faucet. Maggie leapt back behind her as water suddenly shot from the spigot. Anne laughs at her and her face flushes dark red.

“Stop laughing!” Maggie barked. She looked like a furious little ferret with frizzy fur.

“Sorry, sorry,” Anne said, turning off the faucet. “You are too cute.”

Maggie just huffs.

“However, you really gotta get into the swing of things.” Anne smirked widely. “It’s time for you to have lessons on the modern world!”

—

Maggie watches curiously from the couch as Anne put a rectangular device with red and blue sides into a holder of sorts on a stand. The large screen (which a voice in her head- probably the ‘modern world knowledge thing’- helpfully tells her is called a “television”) on top of the stand lights up and displays a large menu option, where dozens of colorful icons are displayed on a dark grey background. Anne walks over to her and sets the two red and blue pieces from the device (_“Controllers,”_ The Knowledge Voice tells her) into her hands.

“This is a Switch.” Anne said.

Maggie stared down at the controllers. “Doesn’t look like a switch to me.”

Anne laughed. “No, it’s called a Switch, Mags. It’s a game console.”

After being told what exactly a game console was, Maggie nodded. Anne guides her fingers to move the joysticks and select the game with a funny little yellow creature on its icon.

“You’re gonna learn how to play Let’s Go Pikachu because you NEED to like Pokémon.” Anne stated. Maggie was only half listening, more transfixed on all the vibrant colors and that little creature bounding around the screen. Her eyes were wide and glistening in awe.

“It’s cute.” Maggie said.

“Isn’t it?” Anne said. “That’s a Pikachu.”

“Bless you.”

Anne blinked before laughing loudly. She gives Maggie a quick hug.

“Oh, I love you so much, Mags!” She kissed the top of her head before selecting English as the game’s language.

They both watched as the starting scene opens up and the Pikachu hops over to Professor Oak. Dialogue bubbles pop up and Maggie puts all her focus into reading them.

_“My name is Oak,”_ Was one of the things said, to which Maggie replied with, “I’m Maggie.” Anne starts to laugh once again.

“He can’t hear you, sweetheart.” She said gently.

Maggie ignored her, too focused on reading. She gasped when the man on the screen suddenly produced a weird looking ball and some brown creature with a skull on its head seemed to come out of it.

“Woah!” Maggie exclaimed. Her eyes went even wider when Mr. Lab Coat and the funky little yellow thing started to walk to the side, revealing even more creatures. “They’re so cool! Annie, look!”

“I see ‘em, Mags.” Anne chuckled. “I knew you’d like this.”

_“I study Pokémon as a profession,”_ Mr. Lab Coat’s dialogue says, so Maggie says, “That’s so cool! I was a lady in waiting!”

Anne bit her lip to keep from laughing. She quickly contained her struggle when the character creation popped up and she helped Maggie decide on what her character should look like. They eventually decide on the brown haired option, despite it lacking Maggie’s striking blue eyes.

“Now you have to name yourself.” Anne said.

“Since this obviously isn’t me, do I have to give her my name?” Maggie asked and Anne shakes her head.

“Nope! You can call her anything you want!”

“Okay,” Maggie said, and then proceeded to type in ‘Magpie’ for her character’s name. Anne snorts so hard she nose hurts.

On the screen, the yellow creature runs over to a boy with spiky hair. Maggie tilts her head at him.

“I can name him?” She asked Anne.

“Yup!”

“Woah.” Maggie’s eyes glisten with mischief. “I have so much power.”

She ends up naming the rival “Robin” to “stick with the bird theme.”

Maggie falls silent for a moment, watching the introduction close and the game open up completely. She’s absolutely enamored by the motions and movements on the screen, as well easily caught by all the pretty colors. She spends a good few moments just making her character run in circles, giggling the entire time, before finally continuing out of the house (after speaking to her rival, of course).

After going to the lab (which Anne has to guide her to), she makes her character run to some nearby grass, where she sees the professor man talking to some birds.

“That’s weird.” She commented. She perks up when that noise from earlier in the game plays from the speakers and, suddenly, the yellow creature is running at her character from the grass. “Oh! Annie, what’s going on?” She asked as the screen changes to a new setting with the creature sitting in the center of the screen.

“You’re gonna catch the Pikachu.” Anne explained. “When the ball icon pops up, click the button that says ‘Get Ready’ and then swing the controller in direction of the Pokémon.”

Maggie nodded. She did as she was told and promptly throws the controller across the room.

“No-!!” Anne cried. She jumped up and quickly went to retrieve the controller, which luckily wasn’t damaged.

“Sorry!” Maggie yelped. She hunches her shoulders in and looks down. “Sorry, Annie…”

Anne say back down beside her and nudged her gently.

“Hey, it’s okay! I did the same thing.” She said.

Maggie giggled softly that the thought of that. She tries again after Anne gave her the controller back and successfully manages to catch the Pikachu.

“Good job!” Anne praised.

Maggie is grinning brightly up until the PokéBall she caught the Pikachu in starts to move and then roll in the direction of the lab she went into earlier.

“How?” She said and Anne laughed.

“Keep playing!”

Maggie does and quickly gets to the scene where the Pikachu comes out of the PokéBall and presses its head into the character’s hand. The entire time Maggie’s eyes are wide and glimmering.

“That is so cute!!” She squealed. “Annie, I love it!”

Anne smirked proudly. “I knew you would.” She said. “Now you just gotta give it a name! Your Pikachu is a girl because of the heart shape on the tail, so-”

“French Toast.”

“What?”

“Her name is French Toast.”

—

When Friday rolled around, the house was filled with the scent of cinnamon. Maggie and Anne ventured downstairs and Maggie looks around curiously.

“What’s that smell?” Maggie asked.

Jane, who was doing something with buttered bread at the kitchen island, looked over at her with a sweet smile.

“Cinnamon.” She answered. “I’m making cinnamon toast.”

“That sounds really good.” Maggie said.

“It will be,” Anne said before guiding her to sit on the couch. The two of them converse before everyone else starts to wake up- first Cleves, then Parr, then Aragon and Maria, and finally Katherine. Anne had noticed cousin tottering slightly, looking a little disoriented, but she would let someone else handle her right now. All her attention was on Maggie, and it was going to remain that way for awhile. Her cousin could find comfort elsewhere.

Suddenly, the dark, fire-breathing sky explodes with a booming crash of thunder and lightning torches the sky. The lights flicker treacherously, like they were trying to decide whether to blow out or not, but ultimately stayed alive.

“I wonder who it’ll be this time.” Parr mused from where she was reading at the bar.

“What?” Aragon looked at her.

“Haven’t you noticed a pattern?” Part said. “Each time there’s that loud thunder and lightning, one of our old ladies in waiting appear. First there was Maria, then Maggie, now someone else.”

“That’s so cool,” Anne said. “But I’ve got all I need here.” She hugged Maggie, who snuggles into the embrace with a giggle.

“It would be nice to see my sister again,” Katherine murmured, thinking about that certain lady in waiting with a small smile on her pale lips.

“Well, Cath was right.” Cleves said, looking out the back door. “Someone’s here.”

They all go to look and see a girl sprawled in the lake that was their backyard. Thick blonde tendrils float around her head as she laid under the sheets of rain, not moving.

“Uhh… Is she even alive?” Anne said.

“Not sure.” Cleves said slowly.

“I’ll check,” Parr offered while pulling on a jacket and grabbing an umbrella. She steps outside and sloshes through the water pooling above the turf to get to the girl, who’s much younger up close. She appears to be barely older than Katherine at most.

“Hey,” Parr knelt down, shivering when cold water soaks into her pants. “Hey, are you okay?”

She gently presses on the girl’s shoulder, shaking her slightly. At first, it doesn’t do anything, but then the girl shudders and coughs. She wheezes softly as she rises up to her elbows, rocking slowly as her frail body struggles to hold its own weight, and then she coughs again before Parr can address her again. Dirt comes spewing from her mouth.

Parr is shocked as she watches the girl seemingly cough up and then fully throw up dirt, which starts to become mud when stomach acid and blood get mixed in. The water around them billows and turns red and brown and black. The girl swayed and then collapsed against Parr, struggling to breathe.

Parr snaps at out of her trace. She drops the umbrella, making a mental note to come back for it later, and gathered the girl up into her arms. It’s a lot easier to pick her up than she expected, but she could worry about that later. She quickly ran back inside, doing her best to not jostle the delicate cargo in her grasp.

“Woah-” Katherine had been saying when she burst inside, but Parr quickly cut her off.

“Something’s wrong.” She said. “She’s sick.”

“Sick?” Cleves echoed.

“Yes.” Parr swallowed thickly. She looked down at the girl’s ashen face. “She was throwing up…dirt.”

A swell of confused, curious, and shocked murmurs rose in the house. Among them, Parr noticed the disgruntled look on Jane’s face.

“I know her.” Jane said. She doesn’t seem alarmed by the news of the new girl’s illness. Perhaps she just didn’t care.

“Yeah…I think I do, too.” Anne agreed and Maggie nodded.

“Me too.” Katherine piped in.

Parr couldn’t believe how they were more transfixed on that than what she just told them. By the look on her godmother’s face, she knew she thought the same thing.

“Who is she?” Cleves asked.

“Joan Meutas.” Jane answered. “My lady in waiting.”

Katherine nodded in agreement.

“And my maid in waiting.” Anne said.


	5. Far From The Flock

Joan lay motionless on the mattress, staring up unblinkingly at the white, plastered ceiling. In the back of her brain, a low voice suggested that perhaps she should move, but was ignored. There was too much to inhibit her: the pain, the shock, and the overwhelming fear of the unknown that gripped her body.

Joan’s surroundings were so entirely surreal that she was consumed with a sort of frightened curiosity. It’s been years- centuries- since she’s slept in a real bed and not just floated aimlessly in a hellish void (although the void was better than the greyed out forest).

As she lay there, she took in the feeling of the mattress beneath her body, the warm blankets spread over her and tucked around her sides. The bedroom itself was fancy too, but not in the way that royalty had back then- it had a high ceiling that reminded her of a chapel and oak bookshelves lining the soft yellow walls and a weird black rectangle sitting on the dresser.

Where was she?

What happened?

She tried to move, but a pain in her head stopped her. She had a terrible migraine for some reason. Her skin was burning and aching, too, but only in certain areas. The taste of soil and metal lingered in her mouth.

Joan was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. As the doorknob began to slowly turn, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly with a sinking heart. Fear courses through her and she wasn’t exactly sure why.

The unknown person stepped into the room and approached the bedside. She listened carefully, hearing the rustle of expensive clothing as the person leaned down and smelling the scent of roses and coconuts. Then, without warning, the back of a hand pressed to her forehead.

With a yelp of surprise and fear, Joan scrambled across the bed, getting tangled in the sheets as she put as much distance as possible between herself and her attacker. She was too frightened, even, to notice the throbbing pain that the movement drew in every part of her body. There was a sound of surprise, followed by further rustling.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Came the exclamation. “Slow down, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Joan paused in her escape attempts, mainly because an overwhelming dizziness overcame her. Her elbows buckled and she crashed down onto the blankets. The stranger quickly went to her aid.

Staring at her with mixed emotions of worry and confusion were the most startling pair of brown eyes Joan had ever seen.

It was a woman.

Joan hesitated on the verge of a scream, pausing at the sight of her eyes. They were warm, she noticed, slightly lighter around the pupils, and filled with concern. Upon seeing her startled expression, they grew slightly narrower in a response that Joan didn’t understand, so she turned her attention to the rest of the stranger.

Sweat pants that look too grungy for such a pretty lady, a dark gold top, curly brown hair that looked like it was dipped in paint at the tips, dark, flawless skin.

Beautiful women made her nervous.

“I’m sorry,” Came the low apology, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Her voice was husky and slightly deep, bearing the normal tone most people in England had, but also a slight Hispanic twang to it that came out in some words or syllables.

Joan merely shied away- or, she tried to. The stranger has her propped up in their arms, but she manages to squirm, even when it sets off thousands of hammers pounding relentlessly in her head. She whimpers pathetically.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” The stranger murmured, still taking care to keep her voice low and soothing. Joan did not trust her, not for one moment— the soft, melodic crooning as if to an injured bird…it was something she didn’t deserve.

“Look, I’m Catherine.” The woman persisted, folding herself down to eye level with Joan. She appears to be around thirty, maybe. Perhaps a little older, but has retained a lot of youth in her stunning features. “I know you’re freaked out- this has to be completely overwhelming- but you need to understand that we’re not going to hurt you here. You’re safe.”

Joan remained very stiff. She kept looking from the woman- Catherine, apparently- to the rest of the room, then to the greyed out world beyond the window.

Was she in the forest? What kind of new illusion was this?

“At least let me get you cleaned up?”

Still, Joan refused to respond. As pretty as this lady was, she couldn’t trust her. Not in the forest.

Catherine sighed, an action that sounded almost weary and certainly defeated.

“Fine. Alright, I’ll make you a deal— are you listening to me?“ She spared Joan a glance, long enough to see the lack of response, before continuing. “You can take your own shower and everything- the bathroom’s right through there- but you need to eat something once you’re done. Reincarnation—it burns a lot of calories. You’re probably so hungry.”

Joan blinked, but otherwise didn’t move— what did the woman say? Reincarnation?

Catherine unfolded her lengthy legs, climbing out of the bed and standing to her slightly intimidating height- much taller than scrawny little Joan. She practically had to drag the girl to the bathroom and was quickly met with a locked door once Joan was inside.

“I’ll be back to check on you later.” She said before footsteps disappeared somewhere else.

Joan slid to the floor with a low groan of pain. It wasn’t until that moment that she felt sort of a pressure in her body. She couldn’t pin the exact location, but it was uncomfortable and made her queasy. She swallowed hard, placing her hands over her stomach, which was bubbling in a way that brought further discomfort. She whimpered. She didn’t want to throw up again.

After a long time of sitting, listening to voices somewhere else in the house (four of which sounded frighteningly familiar), she managed to wiggle out of her clothes and stumble into the shower. Although such an invention wasn’t around back then, she somehow knew which way to turn the nozzle to get the hot water.

She really was back, then. Not in the forest. But she still couldn’t trust anyone. Not yet.

Joan stood on shaky legs beneath the rain of liquid fire shooting relentlessly out of the shiny spigot. She looked down slowly and saw a silvery streak laced in a diagonal line across her collarbone. She touched it tentatively- it was tender and ticklish under her fingertips.

There was another scar on her left forearm- several, actually. They were overlapped on one another, like when someone took a quill and just scratched aimless lines on a piece of parchment.

She continued to find scars the longer she looked- a few on her chest, one streaking right down her right breast, one on her right arm, several on her stomach, one on her hip, and several more between her legs. She couldn’t really see them, but she could feel them when she checked, which was embarrassing and set her face flaming with red, so she quickly stopped her inspection. As she does so, a wave of nausea and weariness sets over her and she crumbles to the floor.

Exhaustion seemed to be bred into her bones. It keeps her from sitting upright and she spends multiple long minutes just lying face-down on the shower floor, face smothered against puddles of water accumulating around her shaking body (when did she start trembling?). She rasps and coughs, rolling heavily onto her side and pulling her legs in close. She pressed her burning forehead against her knees.

Resting her eyes for a moment wouldn’t hurt anyone….

But then an itchiness scratches relentlessly at the inside of her throat and she coughs. And coughs. And coughs again until she’s hacking like a cat trying to force up a hairball. What comes up isn’t a mass of fur, but clumps of dirt that wash the water around her grainy shades of brown.

Joan’s head began to spin. Dirt was coming out of her mouth. And now mud was starting to follow it from the saliva and all she could do was ball up and cry.

———

Aragon rapped her knuckles quietly on the bathroom door. When no noise but the steady rush of falling water met her, she began to turn back, but halted at the sound of a low, muffled sob. She pressed her ear against the door and called out softly, “Is everything all right in there?” 

Upon receiving no response, she tested the handle, drew out the house’s master key, and quietly opened the door.

At first, glancing hurriedly around the room, she saw nothing particularly out of place. But then her eyes fell upon the huddled figure in the open shower, and with a low gasp, she took a hurried step forward to find the new girl barely conscious on the floor, slightly murky water congealing around her head.

“Oh dear,” Aragon said. She quickly turned off the shower, snatched up a towel, and fell down her knees beside the tub. She placed a hand on Joan’s shoulder, shaking her lightly. Her efforts are awarded with a soft moan. “Joan? Wake up, dear. You can’t sleep here.”

Another moan, this time more strangled.

Glistening, dark grey lamb eyes peered up at Aragon. The fluorescent light overhead caught them in just the right way to make the irises shimmer is varying hues of silver and only proceeded to bring out the youth this young girl held, as well as her vulnerability. She almost looked like a little sheep that lost its flock.

“Can you sit up?” Aragon asked softly. She was afraid of hurting the girl’s ears if she spoke too loudly- when she was first reincarnated her senses had been on overdrive, especially her hearing. It might have been the same for this little one.

Joan didn’t react for a moment, then pushed herself into a sitting position. She was swaying slightly, eyes glazing over. Aragon felt her forehead and found it burning hot.

“Oh dear…” Aragon murmured again, this time much more stricken and alarmed. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re on fire.”

Joan didn’t react. Her head tilts back slightly to stare aimlessly at the ceiling.

“I’m going to go get you some fresh clothes, alright?”

Aragon wasn’t even gone for a minute- she feared Joan somehow hurting herself when she was away. It was a motherly instinct that seemed to come with all the others, but she swore it felt…stronger with this girl in particular, and she wasn’t quite sure how. She certainly didn’t know any Joan’s back in her rein as queen.

She returns to the bathroom and awkwardly has to help Joan into the clothes she found- they were Katherine’s, since they appeared to be around the same age, and yet they still were loose on her frail, scrawny little body.

“Joan? Joan, honey, can you hear me?” Aragon have Joan’s cheek a light pat to rouse her. It actually gets Joan to blink and focus on her with those pretty eyes of hers. “There you are… Alright, I need you to listen to me, alright? I’m going to pick you up and bring you back to the bedroom.”

Joan blinked very slowly, almost like a cat. Aragon takes it as enough as agreement, so she scoops the girl up and is startled by how light she was. She carefully brings her back to her bedroom, which she has given up to the clearly-ill girl.

“Are you hungry?”

No response was given.

At least she wasn’t screaming.

“Thirsty?”

Same reaction; the silent girl merely stared at her with a look of pure delirium in her lamb eyes.

“Joan?”

She blinks. So she’ll react to her name. That helps. Some.

However, her eyes start to droop shut and Aragon can’t even get her to drink anything before she’s unconscious.

———

It’s Sunday, now. The newest girl the queens have taken in is no longer responsive And doesn’t eat or drink anything. The forecast says the sun was going to come out the next day. Joan has remained a sculpture of chipped granite pain in Aragon’s bed, curled lifelessly in a staring huddle.

When thunder crushes and the lights flicker, nobody appears.


End file.
